


The Unseen

by The_Purple_Raven



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alistair (Dragon Age) is a Good Friend, Brecilian Forest (Dragon Age), Chaptered, Dalish Elves, Dragon Age Headcanons, Dragon Age: Origins Spoilers, F/M, Grey Warden Alistair (Dragon Age), Post-Dragon Age: Origins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:28:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23211778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Purple_Raven/pseuds/The_Purple_Raven
Summary: Alistair has been trying to figure out what life looks like for him after helping his friend, Finnian Amell, defeat the Archdemon. In the weeks following the end of the Blight, he has returned to Redcliffe to assist in the reconstruction efforts. Unfortunately, the place where he spent part of his childhood no longer feels like home. Feeling adrift, Alistair is somewhat relieved to hear Finn has a mission for him. A letter from a secretive clan of Dalish elves contains a request for help. Now he must find the source of the darkness creeping through the Brecilian Forest and stop it.This story begins a few weeks after the events in Dragon Age: Origins.
Relationships: Alistair & Male Amell (Dragon Age), Alistair & Male Warden (Dragon Age), Alistair & Morrigan (Dragon Age), Alistair/Original Female Character(s), Male Amell/Morrigan (Dragon Age), Morrigan/Male Warden (Dragon Age)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 3





	1. A New Path

Alistair stood outside the heavy wooden door contemplating if he was actually going to walk through it or not. Part of him was anxious to have an excuse—any excuse—to head out on his own for a while. It had been a month since the Blight had ended, and he was finding it difficult to settle on what his new role in life would be. With no darkspawn, Anora on the throne, and the Hero of Ferelden still hanging around, there seemed to be little room for a Grey Warden sidekick. All of Ferelden felt overshadowed by the Hero, which wasn’t him. A fact he felt he was reminded about continuously.

Despite feeling adrift, he’d willing and gladly stayed to help see to the reconstruction efforts in Redcliffe for the past few weeks. After all, it had been his home for many years, and helping rebuild had given him an excellent excuse to leave Denerim after the Archdemon’s defeat. Ferelden’s capital had become quickly unpleasant for him. Even though he had publicly—and repeatedly—told anyone that would listen that he did not want the throne, Anora still felt threatened by his presence. She made sure to make Denerim feel very unwelcoming.

Unfortunately, Redcliffe was not much better. Despite Alistair growing up there for a time and having the best of intentions to help them rebuild, he finally fully realized it would never again feel like home to him. Arl Eamon did little to dissuade that notion. He was seemingly permanently disappointed in him for not seeking the throne. Now the Hero was here at Arl Eamon’s estate, and he wanted to see Alistair.

Finnian Amell, the warden recruit, should have been under Duncan’s command when he joined. With the tragedy at Ostagar, the responsibility of training Finn was meant to fall to Alistair. He was the senior-most Warden in Ferelden, after all. Instead, Alistair had willingly let the recruit lead their efforts to defeat the Blight and the Archdemon. He didn’t necessarily regret it, but he had gotten a tad tired of hearing everyone gushing over the Hero of Ferelden. Most people made it sound like Finn had singlehandedly defeated the blighted dragon in a single awe-inspiring blow.

Alistair didn’t need or want all of the attention that came with being the “Hero” of anything. That said, people occasionally acting like he’d been at the final confrontation would’ve been nice. Alistair often wondered if Duncan would’ve been proud of him for how he had handled everything. Maybe he would have felt like Alistair shirked his duty by letting Finn take the final blow. Although, it wasn’t as if Finn had asked him, per se. They were fighting a dragon at the time. Alistair’s focus had been on ensuring it died, and they didn’t—not on who actually landed the death strike.

Perhaps he and Finn should’ve discussed strategy more before they headed into Denerim, but they hadn’t. Honestly, Alistair wouldn’t have thought it mattered much. He’d gone into that battle convinced either one or both of them would die. It wasn’t until afterward, did he get an explanation as to why they were both still walking upright. Alistair had needed to press his friend for an answer, something he was not accustomed to doing. Still, it had felt like something he needed to know. Now part of wished he hadn’t asked. The answer had made Alistair’s skin crawl, but like with most things in his life—no one had asked for his opinion.

Now, Finn was waiting on the other side of the door. She, no doubt, would be with him. Alistair would never understand how he could stomach willingly being around her, much less claim to be in love with her. Still, best to face the both of them now instead of waiting for them to swoop down on him when he least expected it. Yes. Swooping is bad, he thought as he reached for the door.

As Alistair walked into the room, he immediately regretted it. He grimaced as he saw Finn with his arm around Morrigan, and both of them smiling. “You were expecting me, right?” he inquired, trying to exaggerate the sound of his annoyance.

“Ah, Alistair. Do come in. Good to see you,” Finn greeted, extending his hand towards his fellow Warden.

Grumbling under his breath, Alistair shook his hand. He seemed to find Finn’s pleasant nature more and more irritating as the Hero’s relationship with Morrigan intensified. “You needed something?” he replied while briefly shaking Finn’s hand.

“Aww. Are you still pouting about not killing the Archdemon?” Morrigan teased.

“No. Just a bit sore still about the whole secret demon baby ritual thing,” Alistair replied, glaring at Morrigan.

“You complain much about a thing that benefited you directly. Would you prefer to be dead instead?” Morrigan prodded.

“Dead? Compared to having to be here? Talking with you? Yeah, maybe,” he shot back.

Finn laughed and kissed Morrigan on the cheek. “Now, now… can’t you two just pretend to get along for a few minutes? For me?” he requested playfully.

“If there is a point to me being here, I would really prefer it if we reached it sooner than later,” Alistair retorted.

“The feeling is mutual,” Morrigan responded. “We, unlike you, actually have a plan for our lives. And it is one that does not include wasting copious amounts of time coddling you.”

“Well, thank the Maker for that,” Alistair exclaimed.

Finn shook his head as his love and best friend exchanged their usual style of pleasantries. “Yes, well… as my lovely lady eluded to, she and I have something pressing to take care of. We will likely be gone for quite some time. Things in Ferelden are fairly quiet now, and reconstruction efforts are well underway. There is, however, one thing that I feel needs a Warden’s attention,” Finn stated. He watched to make sure Alistair was listening.

“A Warden’s attention, but not the ‘Hero’s’?” Alistair prodded. He wasn’t sure if he should be grateful to have something useful to do or insulted that Finn felt it below him.

“Alistair, surely you know I respect you. I know what people say, but I was there. I couldn’t have successfully stopped the Blight without your help. Now, I would deal with this myself. However, there are more pressing things that demand my attention… and protection,” he replied quietly. His tone was suddenly somber.

Alistair heard the sincerity in his voice and was watched with interest as Finn shot Morrigan a short and concerned look. Something was definitely going on between the two of them. Perhaps it had to do with the ritual that kept him and Finn alive. Briefly, Alistair thought about asking them what was really happening. Quickly, however, he decided the less he knew, the better. “Fair enough. So, what is it?” he inquired.

“A troubling report of possible darkspawn being sighted in the Brecilian Forest has come to my attention. Details in the letter are sparse, but it still seems odd. The Dalish elves rarely seek outside help—even from us. For them to feel like there is enough of a threat to reach out does not bode well, I fear,” Finn explained.

“Darkspawn? More? You would’ve thought we’d convinced them to lay low for a while,” Alistair mused.

Finn sighed and shrugged before replying, “Indeed, my friend. Perhaps the reports are wrong. Still, I feel it would be prudent if the matter was investigated.”

“And lucky me gets volunteered? Yay,” Alistair chided. He didn’t really understand why he was resisting Finn’s request. He did want to leave Redcliffe, and the Bricillian Forest was as good a place as any to head. Still, his mood had been sour as of late, and his tone reflected that.

“Volunteered? Being asked to do the very job, you are sworn to do—that should not feel like such a terrible burden to you. Wouldn’t you agree?” Morrigan interjected.

Alistair grumbled under his breath. Just great, he thought. His unhappy mood had landed him in the position of having to agree with Morrigan. A place he never enjoyed being. “Give me the report. I will head out in the morning,” Alistair stated. He could feel Morrigan smirking even though he purposefully kept his gaze locked on Finn.

Finn nodded and handed Alistair two folded pieces of paper. “I’m afraid there is very little to go on. The clan that sent the request is very reluctant to interact with any humans, Warden or not. They’ve given the name of a contact you are to seek out. Apparently, if you camp at the location on the enclosed map, their contact will find you,” explained Finn.

“A bit more cloak and dagger than I’m used to, but if there really are darkspawn,” he replied before trailing off for a moment. “Well, then a Warden should look into it,” Alistair admitted.

“And there is a no more capable Warden than you, my friend,” Finn assured warmly. Without asking or waiting, Finn moved to hug Alistair tightly. He patted him on the back and stated, “You truly are the best of us.” Finn took a step back and smiled at Alistair. “I know Ferelden is in capable hands with you. Just stay safe, my friend.”

Alistair blinked at Finn with mild shock. After the Archdemon fell, they had both been pulled in opposite directions for a while. Everyone wanted their chance to see and thank Finn personally. To that end, Anora had insisted Finn stay in Denerim while she simultaneously conveyed the opposite message to Alistair. Despite Finn’s protests, Alistair had convinced himself that Finn enjoyed the newfound attention and being embraced everywhere he went.

Meanwhile, Alistair didn’t even feel welcome in a place that had been his home. Now, however, Alistair realized he had misjudged his friend. Finn was the same man he always was—humble, brave, and kind. Alistair immediately felt guilty for being harsh to his fellow Warden, even in light of the secret ritual and his affection for Morrigan.

“I do believe you’ve struck poor Alistair speechless, dear,” Morrigan teased sarcastically.

“No. It’s just… well, I,” Alistair paused and tried to compose himself a bit. “I think I may owe you an apology,” he began.

“Nonsense. You and I didn’t exactly get a lot of training on how to be Wardens. And even if we had… there are no instructions on what to do after defeating an Archdemon. Not beyond staying vigilant. Plus, my love’s idea was brilliant… but it also complicated things. I’m supposed to be dead, remember?” Finn stated before giving Morrigan an affectionate grin.

“I suppose that is all true. Still, I’m sorry for my foul mood today. My time in Redcliffe has been more… challenging than I expected,” Alistair responded quietly.

“Do not let these small-minded fools determine your worth. Even you are smart enough to realize you are better than how they see you,” instructed Morrigan with an unusual amount of kindness in her tone.

Alistair chuckled softly as he realized that was probably the nicest thing Morrigan had ever said to him, even if it was a bit of a backhanded compliment.

“Although, if your response to a compliment is to laugh at its bearer—then perhaps they have judged you properly,” Morrigan suggested as she crossed her arms.

“My apologies. I was simply stunned that you managed to say something nice to me,” Alistair replied with a grin.

Morrigan scoffed, “You say that as if it is some huge shock that I can—in fact—be nice.”

Finn was laughing loudly now and pulled Morrigan close. “Do not worry, my dear. I know just how nice you can be,” he teased.

Alistair grimaced. “Ugh. Yeah. So, that is my cue to leave. You two be careful wherever you are heading. Hopefully, there won’t be any looming threats that need to be dealt with the next time we meet,” he stated sincerely. He bowed his head to the pair and then headed to the door.

“Take care, my friend,” Finn called after him.

“Yes, do try to keep yourself from needing me to swoop in and save you anytime soon,” Morrigan reminded him before turning her attention fully to Finn.

Alistair laughed quietly to himself as he left the room and closed the door behind him. “Don’t worry. If I remember anything, it is that swooping is bad,” he joked to himself. He could already hear their hushed words and Morrigan’s giggle through the door. Time to put some space between me and everything else, he thought.

With a destination and a mission, Alistair felt better than he had since the Blight ended. He spent the remainder of the day securing some supplies and stopping to say goodbye to a few people in town. Alistair didn’t suspect most of them would actually miss him, but they might wonder where he’d disappeared to. Plus, it felt good to inform people that he was heading out on “official” Grey Warden business. He even stopped by to speak with Arl Eamon and Bann Teagan. They both wished him well and thanked him for his service to Redcliffe. After finishing his preparations, Alistair headed to bed. He was all too aware of what it would be like camping for an extended period. He thought it wise to try and get as much rest tonight as possible. Still, even with the lack of details concerning his mission, a sense of excitement filled him as he drifted off to sleep.


	2. The Silent Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair begins his journey towards the Brecilian Forest. While he is left alone with his thoughts and terrible cooking, he contemplates what and who awaits him once he reaches his destination.

Alistair had woken with the sun and gotten started on his trek to the Brecilian Forest while most people were still asleep. He was anxious to get underway and wanted to try and push himself to cover as much ground as possible today. If there were indeed darkspawn, then time was of the essence. Even if it turned out to be something else, Alistair held no doubts that something menacing was waiting for him. He could just feel it.

While there were many questions in his head regarding what he would be facing, most of his thoughts centered on “who” he was meeting. Finn had been right. The letter held incredibly few details at all. Beyond the note, there was a simple map that Alistair desperately hoped would make more sense once he was actually reached the Brecilian Forest. It marked the location where he was to pitch camp and await his guide. The letter itself only contained two sentences—Darkspawn or something sinister threatens to corrupt the forest, please send aid. If you accept our request, your guide will be Meara.

Alistair was a little ashamed to admit that he knew very little about Dalish culture. I mean, he had traveled with a Dalish elf—sort of. While Dalish, Zevran seemed to think of himself as more Anitvan than anything. Alistair, to this day, didn’t understand what Finn had originally seen in the elf to make him want to bring him along. Still, it had been a wise decision, and one Alistair knew he wouldn’t have made. It was one more reason he was confident he’d made the right call when he encouraged Finn to become the de facto leader of their little group.

Beyond what Alistair had picked up from Zevran, the rest of what he knew about the Dalish he’d learned when he and Finn led their party through the Brecilian Forest. They’d come to secure the elves aid against the Blight. That clan had been a little standoffish at first, but overall he’d felt welcomed within their camp, and their help proved to be invaluable against the Blight.

This clan, however, seemed to want to avoid interacting with humans at almost all costs, even if it meant possibly exacerbating his dealings with the looming threat they faced. As he journeyed, Alistair wondered what type of person “Meara” was. The name, he thought, sounded like a woman’s name. Beyond that, there were no details listed in the letter. Perhaps she or he was their most skilled warrior or their assigned diplomat of sorts. Alistair certainly hoped being assigned to help him was something his guide wanted. He knew all too well what it felt like to be pushed into a role that didn’t fit, and he was hopeful that was not how Meara would feel. “Maker, just let them not hate the idea of helping me. That would really be… well, helpful,” Alistair pleaded aloud as he walked the mostly abandoned road.

Once he was far from Redcliffe, Alistair sighed contentedly. Traveling with his pack, sword, and shield reminded him of the time spent traveling with Finn and the others. The near-constant walking and fighting had made the past year difficult at times, but overall he’d enjoyed his time fighting the Blight. Alistair chuckled to himself as he imagined the response he would get if he voiced that opinion out loud. Still, it was true. Despite knowing he and Finn were all that stood between the Blight’s success or failure, he wouldn’t have changed that part of his life for anything.

As dusk fell, Alistair made camp in a small clearing and attempted to cook dinner for himself. Unfortunately, even he was not a fan of his cooking. Even so, he’d managed to eat enough of his creation to satisfy his hunger pains for now. With his mind feeling more peaceful than it had in some time, he laid on his bedroll under the clear night sky and swiftly fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know this chapter is brief and fairly uneventful. It is (as the title hints at) pretty much all about getting from point A to point B. Or in this case... just out of point A and towards point B. In the next chapter, I am planning for much more activity to take place. Alistair will reach the forest and that is when the real adventure begins. Thanks for reading and thanks for your kudos/comments.

**Author's Note:**

> This story will focus on Alistair, one of my absolute favorite characters. I want to explore what his life might be like if he wasn't the King or Hero of Ferelden. It is a work in progress, so I will add chapters and tags as I move through the story. Thanks for giving it a read and for your comments/kudos.
> 
> A little about me: I am currently working on completing two original fantasy books. So, I am not sure how quickly I will get chapters written for this. That said, I am a bit obsessed with the Dragon Age world, and I'm excited to see where this story takes me. I will be trying not to take too long between chapters. (I know... "too long" is pretty vague. I am sorry about that.) Anyway, thanks for visiting this little corner of my imagination. I hope you enjoy it!


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